


The glass

by mahkent



Category: Everyman HYBRID
Genre: Gen, Introspection, POV Second Person, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 21:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16145414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahkent/pseuds/mahkent
Summary: Reach for the outside. Reach towards that accursed glass. Your fingertips hit, they smear against the impossible wall you can never break through, your hand flattens against the glass as your hand on the other side wraps around your best friend’s shoulder.





	The glass

Reach for the outside. Reach towards that accursed glass. Your fingertips hit, they smear against the impossible wall you can never break through, your hand flattens against the glass as your hand on the other side wraps around your best friend’s shoulder. The glass- the glass keeps you from anything. A prisoner in your own body, you have no control.

Your body is not your own. You accepted this the moment you woke up in a new place with inky darkness in your memory, empty gaps that make it to where you don’t even know what day it is, or what week, or what month- you accepted that your body was not your own when you lost control and woke with blood on your hands and meat in your teeth.

You see through your own eyes a swimming image. Underwater, you’re choking on the darkness keeping you down, unable to tread water when your limbs aren’t your own. Reach for the surface, see the light refracting and spinning through the water of your own mind. See your friend under the thing’s hands, your hands that aren’t yours, see how he’s crying and read his lips that are pleading for you to wake up. You, he calls you by name before your hands rip the air from his lungs. Feel your fingertips just barely break the surface just now, the glass splintering outward before you’re dragged back under.

Then feel how the being in your body fills your mind with the sights and sounds and scents and tastes. Everything it does, it fills in the gaps of your mind with what it knows; every little rip and tear it shows you. Your brain is a white-hot mess of nothing and everything at once. None of your nerves have tripped for so long that the memory of them sparking has you spiralling into agony, unable to so much as comprehend what’s happening- trains of thoughts crashing together and derailing, a slaughter through your brain.

Feel your teeth that aren’t your own bared in a smile. Feel your hands close around your friend’s neck. Feel your fingers slick with something you refuse to think about sliding across his cheek, feel it slide down to his lips and push past to make him lick the slickness off. See the red in your eyes and on your hands and on your friend, see the monster controlling you gesturing wildly and using you then dropping you.

It’s almost comforting, when the being crushes your consciousness and you’re reduced to quiet thoughts and instincts. Old memories filtering through your brain, you remember your friend- his soft hair and soft body and kind eyes. The way his lips curled when he smiled, and you don’t think you’re gay but it’s amazing when his hand brushes against your own. The memories make you feel something instead of the numbness of your body belonging to something else. You fall deep into those rabbit holes, remembering your best friend’s dark eyes crinkling at the edges. His hands running over your chest- you hate people touching you there, except him, because he’s not just people. These memories remind you that he’s the most important person to you.

Wait for the glass to shatter. Wake with your friend curled against the wall. Wake with the knowledge that your hands cause those dark bruises on his neck and forced the blood through his lips. Know that you have no control. Wait for the mirror to reform above your head and force you back into the deepest recesses of your shattered mind. 

The mirror reforms above your head. Your fingertips smudge against it again. Wait for the process to repeat, and wait until you wake with no knowledge of what your body’s done.

**Author's Note:**

> for a prompt. i love evan and vinny and also love exploring how fucked up possession is.


End file.
